


Like Tinsel and Ribbon

by liamthebastard



Series: Various Christmas OTP Challenges [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, Additional Pack Cameos, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 13,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamthebastard/pseuds/liamthebastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My annual 25 Day Christmas OTP Challenge. </p><p>Derek isn't going to think about why he bends so easily to Stiles's Christmas plans. It's just not worth thinking about.</p><p>Christmas 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Putting Up Decorations

**Author's Note:**

> I abruptly realized that HOLY SHIT IT'S DECEMBER THIRTEENTH AND I HAVEN'T DONE MY OTP CHALLENGE so be ready folks I'm knocking this out tonight.

“No,” Derek said firmly. “Stiles! Do you hear me? We are not decorating!” 

Stiles was already wrapped in lights and tinsel that he was attempting to hang. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear those with no Christmas spirit,” he said calmly, draping the tinsel over the curtain rods and giving up on the lights. “I’m just gonna have to save these for the tree,” Stiles muttered to himself. 

“Give it up, Derek, he’s like this every year,” Scott said as he stepped out from the kitchen where he and Isaac were making dinner. Derek turned to say something back but Scott had already returned to the kitchen, presumably to hide from the Christmas tornado Stiles was forcing down on the new Hale house. 

“You should listen to Scott, he knows what he’s talking about,” Stiles said, reaching into a box and pulling out a bunch of sticky window decals. “Here, help. Snowflakes go in the top panes, gingerbread men and women in the bottom panes. Hop to,” Stiles insisted, forcing the stack into Derek’s hands. Before Derek knew what was happening, he was helping with the Christmas decorating that he didn’t even want.

Stiles had boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations, but he seemed to be avoiding two in particular. Derek moved over towards him, but Stiles jumped in his way. “Nope, we don’t need those this year,” Stiles said, trying to shoo Derek back towards the angel figurines. 

“But what are they?” Derek asked, darting around Stiles to pull the boxes closer. Inside, there were dozens of candles, some large white pillars, other small blue and silver tapers. The other box held a stack of white paper bags. Derek glanced up at Stiles, who looked embarrassed. 

“They’re luminaries, but we don’t need to put them up this year. I know…” Stiles glanced towards the kitchen, where Scott and Isaac were getting in a conveniently loud discussion on what to make for dinner. Stiles lowered his voice anyway. “I know how you feel about fire, so we aren’t going to do that.” 

Part of Derek wanted to deny it, to say that he had no problem with fire at all, but everyone in the pack knew Derek came with his own special brand of issues, and flames near his house was one of them. But one look at Stiles and Derek knew this was something the younger man loved. He took a deep breath. “Get your coat, we’re gonna put them up.” 

All of Derek’s fears fell silent the moment he looked at Stiles. The young man was lit up, a huge grin on his face and his coat already on. Derek shook his head at the enthusiasm, but once they stepped outside into the quiet night air, a bit of excitement started to buzz under his skin. Stiles handed the box of bags to Derek. 

“Set the bags along the driveway, I’ll follow with the candles and light them,” Stiles said. Derek nodded, and moved quickly down the driveway, placing the bags about six inches apart on both sides until he ran out of bags. When he turned around, Stiles was right behind him, having just lit the final candle. Stiles turned to look up the drive, sighing happily and radiating the scent joy so powerfully Derek thought he might drown in it. The man’s face was bright, a grin spread out as he stared at the lights. Derek turned to observe the lights. 

It was… stunning, really. It didn’t quite look like fire, really. Instead, the luminaries looked warm and welcoming, like lights leading him home. When Derek looked back, Stiles was staring at him in awe. 

“Thank you,” Stiles said quietly. 

Derek just shrugged, and tried not to think about why he’d do so much to make this man smile.


	2. Making Christmas Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these are shorter than usual, but between work and moving, I'm just trying to knock these out while I have an evening free.

Stiles had been suspiciously quiet that afternoon, and like with puppies and toddlers, that was usually a bad thing. 

“Derek!” Erica exclaimed when he entered the living room. “Look what Stiles made for me.” She proudly displayed a large Christmas card, covered in glitter and ribbon. It looked… terrifying, honestly. Stiles glanced up from his work on the coffee table, but when he saw Derek he blushed and ducked his head down to work on the next card. 

“Don’t worry,” Stiles said, “Yours won’t be so sparkly. You’re more of a classy card kinda guy.”

The blonde girl pretended to be offended. “Stilinski, are you saying I’m not classy?” she demanded, planting her hand on the coffee table and leaning into his space. Derek was surprised when he felt the instinct to growl pluck at his mind. He suppressed it, but he could feel the urge stronger when Stiles laughed and didn’t look away from where Erica was presenting. 

“Shoo, Erica, let me work. I’ve only gotten like three done, I need _way_ more,” Stiles said, flicking his hand at Erica to shoo her away. Erica laughed but wandered out of the room, presumably to go find Boyd and bother him for a bit. 

Derek stepped closer and sat down beside Stiles on the couch. He reached for the stack of construction paper and began folding sheets of paper in half. Stiles looked over, startled. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked. 

“You said you had a lot to make, this should help,” Derek said, taking a Sharpie and writing _Merry Christmas_ in block letters on the front of the card. Stiles barked a laugh, but smothered it when Derek glared at him. 

“Derek, as much as I like your dour disposition, you may want to add a little pizzaz to your card. Here, try some ribbon or something,” Stiles said, shoving the jar of ribbon and other sparkly things over to him. Derek picked a few things out of them, some things he thought Isaac would like, and scattered them over the card. Stiles helped him glue them down properly so they wouldn’t fall apart. “Now sign it, if you made it, you’re giving it,” Stiles instructed, passing over a metallic gel pen. 

Derek frowned. “But that doesn’t help you, you’ll still have to make one if you don’t use this one,” Derek argued. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’ll sign them together,” he said, and snatched the pen out of Derek’s hand to inscribe a quick message. “ _Happy holidays, from Stiles and_ \- here, sign.” Derek took the proffered card and signed neatly alongside Stiles’s scrawl. He tried not to feel too pleased. It was just a Christmas card, not a marriage certificate- Not that Derek wanted to marry Stiles. Or even date him. God, no. Never. Nope.

He glanced over at where Stiles was focusing intently on a card for Boyd. Stiles smiled a little as he wrote a message inside the card and slid it over for Derek to sign. Derek felt something warm and fluttery in his stomach when their fingertips brushed over the construction paper.

Nope. No desire at all.


	3. Sitting/Snuggling in Front of the Couch with Hot Cocoa/Tea

The entire pack had spent the day playing in the snow, building snowmen -“And snowwomen, don’t be sexist, Derek,” Erica had said, which led to Stiles telling a very unfunny joke involving snowballs- and having snowball fights. Of course, it was fucking _cold_ outside, and even werewolves had to get cold sometime, so Derek had retreated indoors to warm up while Stiles led a crusade of humans versus werewolves in a snowball battle. 

Derek, meanwhile, put an entire gallon of milk over the stove to warm up. He started pulling down coffee mugs from the cupboards for everyone and pulled another pot out to start melting baker’s chocolate. He melted the chocolate down slow and smooth before turning to the milk and adding in a bit of sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg as he stirred it. Once the sugar had dissolved completely, Derek poured the melted chocolate into each mug. Then, he glanced out of the window to wave the pack inside. It was getting dark out, and he didn’t need Stiles getting a cold and bitching about it for the next few weeks. Isaac saw him wave, and tapped the rest of the pack to bring them inside. Derek quickly ladeled the hot milk into the mugs, and stirred to blend the chocolate through the milk. 

The pack poured in through the front door, laughing and jeering at each other over the snowball fight’s results -close, but in the end the werewolves had won, despite Lydia’s killer tactics- as they stripped off their puffy coats and winter boots and left them in the entrance. Soon, everyone piled into the kitchen, making pleased sounds about the smell of hot cocoa. 

“Take your cocoa and get out of here, you’re dripping on my floor,” Derek groused, waving at the counter full of mugs. He reached over and grabbed his own, and Stiles’s favorite mug. “Stiles,” he said, passing over the mug to the man when he looked up. Stiles grinned and took the mug cheerfully, eyes going soft as they always did at the writing on the side of the mug. Erica had gifted it to him for his birthday, and Stiles had just started keeping it at Derek’s for coffee because most of their late-night research sessions occurred at Derek’s house. On the side, it said _World’s Greatest Human_ and had a cartoon baseball bat underneath it. 

Everybody retreated to their various spaces to change into dry clothes and drink their cocoa in peace, but Stiles followed Derek into the living room and sat down on the floor with his back to the couch. Derek settled down next to him, dragging a throw blanket off the couch to cover Stiles with when the human started to shiver. 

“Why do you stay out so long when you know you’ll just be cold?” Derek asked, tucking the edges of the blanket around Stiles’s slim body. 

“B-because it’s fun!” Stiles said, sipping at his cocoa. “Plus, when I get cold, you make this cocoa, and it is _so_ worth getting cold.” Stiles made a ridiculous face and snuggled closer. “C’mon, loan me some of that freaky werewolf body heat.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, but let Stiles coax him into wrapping his free arm around the human. Without really thinking about it, Derek pulled him closer into his chest, wanting him as warm as possible. Stiles was quiet, though, and that was odd enough that it kept Derek from settling. “Go on,” he said, “I know you want to tell me about the snowball fight.”

Stiles beamed, and launched into an explanation of Lydia’s tactics and Allison’s cunning on the field of battle. Derek smiled a little, relaxing against the couch and taking Stiles’s weight while the man spoke and gestured as he told the story. This time, when he lapsed into silence, it felt natural, and Derek let it happen. 

After a few minutes of silence, Derek felt Stiles relaxing against him, and knew he’d be asleep soon. He leaned over and took the empty mug from Stiles’s loose fingers. Stiles protested weakly, but Derek shushed him and set both their mugs aside. 

“Go to sleep, Stiles,” Derek said lowly. Stiles nodded sleepily, and burrowed his face into Derek’s chest. Derek tried to calm his pulse, but even with his efforts, when Scott walked through the living room with Allison in tow, he grinned knowingly at Derek. The Alpha just glared at Scott, but Scott laughed and kept going to the kitchen, where Allison was waiting. 

“You owe me ten bucks,” Allison said sweetly to Scott, loud enough that Derek could hear. 

“Damn it, Derek, you couldn’t hold off by a week?” Scott complained. 

Derek rolled his eyes, even though Scott couldn’t see him. “Nothing’s happened, you don’t have to pay up,” Derek said. It’s not like he was unaware of the running bet amongst the pack about him and Stiles, he just hoped Stiles didn’t know about it. The last thing Derek wanted was the pity of a twenty-two year old. 

Stiles mewled happily in his sleep, and Derek smiled down at him. He pulled him close, savoring the sound of Stiles’s heartbeat, sleep-slow and content.


	4. Shopping for and/or Wrapping Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I have work obscenely early tomorrow I'm just gonna leave it at these four and write more tomorrow night. I will catch up I swear!

Derek stood in the mall, hating himself a little bit. What was he even doing there? Looking for a gift for someone who definitely wasn’t thinking of getting one for him? As if Derek’s life needed to get more pathetic. 

But he couldn’t just _not_ get Stiles a present. He had to get the man something, so here he was, wandering a shopping mall in search of the perfect present for some ridiculous kid who had literally stumbled into his life. 

He’d already been to half the stores in the mall, but nothing had jumped out at him as something Stiles would want. Of course, some of the witty t-shirts hanging in department stores made him think of Stiles, but they didn’t send the message Derek wanted. He wanted to make his feelings for Stiles clear, but not so clear that Stiles would feel compelled to disillusion him. It needed to be perfect, but not _too_ perfect. 

On a whim, he popped into a toy store Cora had loved. He browsed up and down the aisles, looking at the toys on display. Some of them actually looked fun, not that Derek would ever admit that where someone could hear. But as he walked down the final aisle, the ones filled with stuffed animals, something caught his eye. A tiny plush fox, bright red and shoved in amongst a bunch of stuffed wolves. 

Derek smiled and leaned down, picking up the little red fox and running his hand down its side. Something about it clicked for him; Stiles ran with wolves and was clever but was prone to pranks and tricks where the wolves weren’t. This would work. It wasn’t the perfect gift, but just short of perfect was exactly what Derek needed. 

He hustled home with the toy fox sitting in the passenger seat, eyeing it at traffic lights and stop signs. When he pulled up to his house, he felt his stomach sink. Stiles’s Jeep was parked in the driveway, which meant Stiles was sprawled out in the living room, keeping Derek from taking the gift inside. He fumbled around in his backseat for a grocery sack, and eventually found one. The fox fit neatly inside it, and the bag was opaque enough that the fox was invisible. Derek got out of the car and walked into the house. 

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek said as he hung up his keys. 

Stiles sat up from the floor. “Hey, Sourwolf!” he chirped. “I have a question for you.” Derek sighed, but waved him on. “What do you want for Christmas?”

Derek froze. Stiles wanted to get him a Christmas gift? And, more importantly, he was asking what Derek _wanted_? He had no clue how to answer that. He just shrugged, not sure what to tell Stiles. While Stiles stood up, Derek stepped into the kitchen and grabbed some water. When he got back to the living room, Stiles was pulling boxes from his backpack and snagging wrapping paper from the front closet. 

“My house is too quiet to get any work done,” Stiles explained when Derek raised an eyebrow. “Go about your wolfy business, and no peeking at the presents!” Stiles ordered. Derek raised his hands innocently and headed upstairs to wrap Stiles’s gift. Twenty minutes and two rolls of tape later, Derek decided that a gift bag was the best possible option for the gift. Clearly gift wrapping was a born gift, not a learned skill. 

When Derek came downstairs, Stiles had a stack of gifts perfectly wrapped. He was working on making the spiral ribbon for each gift.

Derek frowned hard to hide how badly he wanted to smile.


	5. Picking Out a Christmas Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can do this. I can do this. I believe in myself and my ability to catch up here.

“Derek Hale do you mean to tell me that you do not put up Christmas trees?” Stiles demanded. 

Derek sighed. “I just haven’t the past couple of years. It’s not intentional. Things were just… busy,” Derek said. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and crossed the room to put his hands on either side of Derek’s face. “Derek, compadre, my friend, listen well to what I am about to say.” Stiles’s eyes bored into Derek’s, his face intense. “You are never, and let me repeat once more, _never_ too busy for Christmas. Now, you and I are going to get into my Jeep, grab Scott, and go pick out the biggest tree I can find. You are going to buy it, and then we are going to decorate it as a pack. Let’s go.” 

Suddenly Derek was hustled out of his house, into Stiles’s Jeep, and over to Scott’s house. Stiles must’ve texted Scott at some point, because the young man was waiting outside for them and immediately leaped into the backseat of the Jeep. 

“Oh, quit frowning, Derek, this is gonna be fun,” Stiles chastised, glancing towards Derek.

“I did warn you about Stiles and Christmas,” Scott said happily. The Alpha was almost always cheerful, but now he was outright giddy, and it was driving Derek slowly insane. Thankfully, they reached the tree lot soon, and Stiles was out of the car like a shot. 

Scott and Derek followed at a more sedate pace, and by the time Derek found Stiles, he was among the trees. “God, everything here smells so _good_!” Stiles exclaimed. 

Derek breathed deep, enjoying the scent of pine trees and Stiles’s excitement. “Just pick one already,” Derek grumbled. Stiles rolled his eyes and kept racing up and down the rows of trees, presumably hunting for a good tree. When he let out a shriek, Derek ran to his side, instinct making him step in front of Stiles as if the tree was about to attack.

Stiles tossed his head back and laughed. “Calm down, Cujo, it’s just a tree. No, wait. It isn’t _just_ a tree. It’s _the_ tree. It’s the tree! Our tree! C’mon, we’ve gotta get it,” Stiles insisted. He reached forward and tugged on Derek’s sleeve, begging him to get the tree. Derek threw his hands up. 

“Get the lot owner, Jesus Christ,” Derek conceded. Stiles’s face broke into a wide grin and he sprinted off to grab the lot owner. The young man appeared minutes later, with a man in his sixties dressed like a lumberjack. 

“You boys need any help? This is a pretty big tree,” the owner said. Derek just smirked, and Scott laughed. 

“They’ll be fine, these losers spend all their time in the gym,” Stiles covered smoothly. 

Derek tried to hide a snicker, but the owner didn’t seem to care one way or the other. “Suit yourself,” the owner said. “You can bring your car around to the back gate, it’ll be a shorter walk.” Stiles nodded, and left, presumably to get the car. 

Scott gestured to the tree, and Derek nodded. Derek took the base and Scott the tip, and together they easily hauled it over to the back gate of the lot, where Stiles was waiting in the Jeep. 

“C’mon, everyone’s already at your place, ready to decorate, let’s go!” Stiles urged. Derek and Scott strapped the tree to the Jeep’s roof, and climbed into the car. Halfway there, Stiles glanced across the console at Derek. “You know you love it, Der, quit pouting.”


	6. Decorating the Christmas Tree

Lydia and Erica greeted them at the door, twin smiles spread over their faces. Derek could feel a sinking in his stomach as the pair advanced. 

“Put the tree over here, we’ve got the stand ready,” Lydia instructed, pointing into the living room by the large windows. Derek and Scott took the tree and put it in the stand while Boyd screwed it in straight. “Perfect. Erica, give everyone the boxes of ornaments.”

Erica tossed a smirk in Lydia’s direction, but obeyed and gave everyone a box. Even Derek got one, much to his confusion. Stiles looked delighted, however, so Derek set his box aside for the time being to watch as his pack decorated the tree. 

Stiles pulled out ornament after ornament, from the small toy-like ones that he must’ve gathered as a child to the pop culture ornaments he clearly had gotten more recently.

“What, did you guys get these from my dad?” Stiles asked.

“Yup, you know he can’t deny me a damn thing,” Erica replied, hanging a porcelain angel ornament from her own box on the tree. The pack laughed; it was true, Sheriff Stilinski had a soft spot a mile wide for the blonde girl. 

Stiles chuckled. “You remind him of my mom,” he explained. “When they first met.” Derek could scent the melancholy coming off Stiles, but it was subtle enough he doubted anyone else in the pack could. Soon, all the ornaments except Derek’s were on the tree.

“Youngest puts the star on top, Isaac, that’s you,” Lydia ordered.

“No, wait! Derek hasn’t hung his up yet,” Stiles said, pointing his hand over to where Derek was sitting, the box of ornaments still in his lap. 

Derek rose slowly. He approached the tree before he opened the box, and the abrupt scent of _family_ almost knocked him over. Inside the box were old ornaments, ones he thought were long lost. Photos of his family in cheesy ornament frames, wobbly hand-made figures he, Laura and Cora had made as children… and his favorite. His mom had always collected nativities, and the prize of her collection had been a blown glass creche Derek had found in a flea market and bought for her. He picked up the ornament carefully, then looked up in wonder. 

First he glanced at Lydia, after all she had provided all the ornaments, but she shook her head and pointed over to Stiles, who was blushing and looking away. 

“Stiles… how did you…” Derek’s voice was soft, surprised. 

Stiles blushed even harder. “When we were looking for Peter last month, I went through your family’s finances. I found a storage unit, but when I swung by to see if there was anything there that’d help, there wasn’t much of anything. Except a few boxes, mostly seasonal stuff. The rest of it’s in your room, but I had Lydia get the ornaments out so you could decorate with us.” 

The werewolf couldn’t help himself. He set the box aside and rushed forward, crushing Stiles into a hug. “Thank you,” he said into Stiles’s ear. Stiles hugged him back fiercely, and Derek was embarrassed to find tears welling in his eyes. He blinked a couple times, then ended the hug when he was sure his eyes were clear. Stiles looked him over for a few seconds, then nodded. Derek nodded back, and finished hanging his ornaments on the tree. 

Isaac almost fell off the chair when hanging the tree-topper, but Boyd caught him quickly and held him steady until the sparkling star was set firmly on the top of the tree. 

“I can’t believe it fit,” Allison said in wonder. Stiles and Isaac both opened their mouths but one quick look from Scott silenced the inevitable _that’s what she said_ joke. 

Derek smiled, and basked in the warm feeling of having a pack for the holidays. He glanced towards Stiles, and the warmth grew until it filled his whole body. Stiles, who had found his family’s ornaments and given them back to Derek, like he knew exactly how badly Derek needed the reminder of his family even as he spent the holidays with his pack. Stiles, who made his heart pound even doing something as simple as relaxing with cocoa.

Stiles, who Derek might have some less-than-innocent intentions towards.

Maybe it was time to do something about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know what day seven is.  
> Mistletoe.  
> The cute kind, not the evil kind, I promise.


	7. Mistletoe

Derek couldn’t help but go by Stiles’s place, a crappy little apartment on the opposite side of town from the Hale house and the Sheriff’s home. Stiles had gotten it when he’d moved back into town after college, just before getting his job at the library. 

Stiles came to the door when Derek knocked. “Whoa,” he said. “You, using the door? This is new. C’mon in.” Stiles stepped aside so Derek could step in. Unlike Derek’s house, which thanks to Stiles looked like Christmas had thrown up, Stiles’s apartment was spartan in its neatness. 

“Where’s all the…?” Derek trailed off, waving his hand around the apartment to demonstrate the general lack of holiday decor. 

“Oh! I’ve been so busy setting up your place, I totally haven’t had time to work on mine. But I’ve got a box of it, I was actually just about to start decorating. Want to help?” Stiles offered, gesturing behind him to the stack of boxes in the front room.

“I figure I owe you that much,” Derek answered, heading for the boxes. He popped one open, and barked a laugh. “Really?” he said, lifting the fake greenery from the box. “Fake mistletoe?”

The younger man snatched it from Derek’s hand, laughing. “Shut up! Mistletoe’s a tradition, but you guys are freakishly allergic, so I had to improvise.” Derek kept laughing. He didn’t know why it was so funny, but the idea of Stiles hunting down fake mistletoe so he could keep a tradition while still staying sensitive to the pack was… sweet, now that Derek thought about it. His laughter petered out, and he instead stared at Stiles, trying to piece together the contradiction of a man in front of him. 

“Stiles, I- I can’t thank-” Derek’s voice just stopped. He couldn’t find the words to express how grateful he was to Stiles, for taking care of the pack, for taking care of _him_. So he stopped. “Here, where do you want me to hang this?” Derek asked, taking the plastic mistletoe from Stiles’s hands. 

Stiles seemed dazed for a second. “Um… Over this way, in the doorway,” Stiles finally said, and he walked with Derek until the mistletoe was hung. Once it was up, Stiles stared openly at it, and Derek abruptly realized the two of them were standing underneath the mistletoe. Together. 

Well, that certainly made things easier.

Derek stepped forward, lowering his hands from where they’d fixed the fake plant to settle instead on Stiles’s waist. Stiles looked startled, but not frightened. Derek could hear the young man’s pulse hammering, but it was almost impossible to make out over the sound of his own heart pounding loud in his ears. Derek took a deep breath. 

“It is tradition, after all,” Derek said. Stiles nodded. Derek took it as his cue to lean in, but he hesitated a breath away from kissing Stiles. “Is this- is this okay?” he asked. 

“Dear god Derek if you do not kiss me _right now_ I swear I’ll- mmph!” Stiles exclaimed, his sentence dying off when Derek kissed him.

After all the time and effort Derek had put into ignoring, denying, and finally accepting his feelings for Stiles, he’d have thought the kiss would be hard, fast, and passionate. Instead, Derek melted into Stiles’s mouth, kissing him tenderly over and over until Stiles moaned and pulled him closer. Derek let Stiles deepen the kiss, making it wet and passionate, but no less gentle. 

They broke apart slowly, their kisses eventually slowing down until Derek was just dropping the occasional peck onto Stiles’s lips. 

Stiles sighed happily. “It’s about damn time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see? cute shit. and i have tomorrow off, excluding an interview at 2pm, so I'm gonna be writing all night.


	8. Making Snowmen

The next day, when Stiles walked into the Hale house where the rest of the pack was hanging out, Derek went right up to him and kissed him gently on the cheek. There was a split-second of silence in the room while the pack processed, then everyone cheered. Except Scott, who groaned and passed ten dollars over to a victorious-looking Allison. After he’d handed over the money though, Scott smiled at Derek and shot him a thumbs up. 

“Guys, c’mon let’s go outside!” Isaac insisted. “We can all coo over the miracle of Stiles and Derek later, I want to build snowmen while I’m still young.” Isaac hauled Boyd to his feet and hustled everyone into their winter coats and boots. Derek held Stiles steady while he stepped into his boots, and ignored the pointed looks Isaac and Boyd threw his way. Everyone trooped outside, where Stiles unveiled a large bag in the trunk of his Jeep containing snowman supplies. Where Stiles had found all of the scarves, Derek didn’t know, nor did he particularly want to ask. Instead, he let Isaac bully him into helping build a colossal snowman to compete with Erica’s and Lydia’s huge snowwoman. 

Every couple of minutes Derek turned to look at Stiles, who appeared to be building a t-rex out of snow next to the igloo Scott and Allison were constructing. At one point Stiles looked over at Derek at the same time, and they held each other’s gaze long enough that Boyd had to pitch a snowball at Derek’s head to snap him out of it. Finally, Isaac deemed their snowman big enough, and Derek was able to slip away towards Stiles’s snow t-rex. 

“Why does it have a carrot?” Derek finally asked. 

Stiles looked up, excited. “Because it is a fundamental rule that snowmen, regardless of species, must have carrots on their forms. This rule doesn’t apply to scarves, but I’m gonna add one anyway. Pass me the one of the ones on the ground, would ya?” Stiles waved a hand towards the heap of scarves on the ground a few feet away. 

Derek bent over to pick one up, and when he turned back around, Stiles’s eyes darted back up from where he must’ve been checking Derek out. Derek’s face went hot, but he passed the scarf over without saying a word. Stiles took one end and used it to tug Derek closer. Stiles leaned up and kissed Derek softly. 

“Thanks, babe,” he said, and Derek heard Scott laugh at the nickname. 

He was never going to live this down, but looking at Stiles, he wasn’t really sure he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fave thing: stiles calling derek babe


	9. Wearing Ugly Christmas Sweater

When Stiles invited Derek over to the Sheriff’s house for dinner, Derek wasn’t really sure what to do. On the one hand, he and Stiles were clearly... something, but on the other hand, what if the Sheriff disapproved? Just because he and Derek had become friendly, even _bonded_ , over the past few years didn’t mean that the Sheriff was going to like him being involved with his son. 

But Stiles had looked so hopeful when he’d asked if Derek was doing anything that night, because he was going to dinner at his dad’s and wanted Derek to come with. So Derek, of course, had said yes. 

And now he was standing in front of his closet, realizing that he had literally nothing to wear except for a gag gift Stiles had given him a year earlier. Derek made a frustrated groan, but pulled the t-shirt on and yanked his leather jacket on over it. If he didn’t hurry, he was going to be late for dinner, and that would make a bad impression.

He drove probably faster than necessary to get to the Sheriff’s house. once there, he sat in the driveway for a solid five minutes, trying to muster up the courage to go inside. It wasn’t until his phone buzzed with a text from Stiles - _Use the front door this time, creeperwolf ;)_ \- that he finally felt brave enough to go knock on the door. 

The Sheriff opened the door, and tried to stifle a smile when he saw Derek’s shirt. Derek flushed, but pretended not to notice it. “Sir,” he said as greeting, sticking out his hand for the Sheriff to shake. 

“For the thousandth time, call me John,” the Sheriff said, clasping Derek’s hand and pulling him into a hug. Derek relaxed into the Sheriff’s hug for a moment before pulling back. “Stiles is in the kitchen, working on dinner. Go ahead and join him.” 

Derek nodded, and practically fled upstairs to the kitchen. Once there, he snuck up behind Stiles, who was stirring up a pot of what smelled like soup. He slid his arms around Stiles’s waist and buried his face in the crook of Stiles’s neck. Stiles made a yelping sound at how cold Derek’s nose was from the outside air, but otherwise settled easily into Derek’s arms. Stiles cooked easily, even with Derek’s arms around him, and soon he was nudging Derek to the table. 

“Go, sit, I’ll bring food,” Stiles said. “Dad!” he shouted, “Soups on!”

Derek heard the Sheriff coming up the stairs, but he was distracted the second Stiles turned around with three bowls of soup balance precariously in his arms. 

“Stiles… is that a Black Santa sweater?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's shirt is [ this one](http://store.wayfm.com/howlin-wolves-t-shirt.html) and Stiles's sweater is [this one](http://www.tipsyelves.com/black-santa-sweater). I know people who own both.


	10. Baking Holiday Treats

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as Derek anticipated. The Sheriff only griped about the low-sodium soup once, and after Stiles came back with a threat of a daily aspirin regimen, he let the topic go. Instead, he and Derek discussed football for awhile, and Stiles pretended to be interested for all of three seconds before focusing on eating. When dinner was over, the Sheriff said goodbye and left for his night shift.

Once the Sheriff was gone, Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand. “Derek, how good of a baker are you?” 

Derek grinned. 

An hour later, both of them were covered in flour, but they were also surrounded by enough dough to bake about a hundred gingerbread cookies. The whole house smelled like baking cookies. 

“Why not bake at your place?” Derek asked, pressing cookie cutters into the dough. 

Stiles shrugged, rolling out another sheet of dough for Derek to start on when he finished the one he was on. “Two reasons; one, Dad’s oven is like, a zillion times better than mine, and two, I’ve never made them anywhere else. Maybe someday there’s someone I’ll do it with, but… I dunno.” 

Derek glanced over at Stiles, but looked back down at his gingerbread. “You realize you’re with someone right now?” Stiles smiled, and nodded. 

“Maybe next year we can do this at your place,” Stiles said, passing the new dough over to Derek to cut while Derek desperately tried to calm his heart down. Stiles said ‘next year’ so confidently, like he was certain they’d still be together come next Christmas. Stiles must have caught on to his thoughts, because the next thing out of his mouth was, “I’ve wanted you since I was sixteen, Derek. I’m not about to let you go anytime soon.”


	11. Kissing in Front of the Fireplace

Once all the cookies were done and packaged, Stiles tugged Derek into the living room and shoved him on the couch. “It’s cold as fuck, I’m turning on the space heater.” Derek glanced between where Stiles was doing battle with the space heater, trying to pull it from the closet, and the fireplace, clearly more accessible, and probably warmer than the space heater could get. 

“Stiles, for the love of God, just start the fireplace,” Derek groaned. Stiles turned and looked at him, startled. “Come over here and start the fire, it’ll be warmer for you. I’ll be fine.” Stiles still looked uncertain, so Derek stood up and grabbed Stiles’s arm. He practically dragged the young man over to the fireplace. “Just start it, I don’t know how to.”

“Derek, are you sure? I can get the space heater out, just give me a second,” Stiles reasoned. 

“You’re shivering,” Derek pointed out. “You’ll be a lot warmer if you just start the damn fire. I’ll grab some blankets.” Derek slipped down the hall to one of the closets, hoping the Sheriff would still have the extra blankets where they’d been the last time he’d come over. He found them quickly, but took some extra time to make sure Stiles was done with the fire before he got back to the living room. He thought he’d be alright with the fire itself, but seeing Stiles right against it might trigger something. By the time he got back, Stiles was spread out on the floor by the fire, and Derek had to quell the instinct to run forward and move Stiles away from the flames. 

“C’mere,” Stiles said, sounding warm and comfortable. His shivering had stopped, but Derek spread one of the blankets out over him anyway, and slid down underneath it to slip his arm around Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles immediately curled up against him. “You really don’t have to do this, Der,” he mumbled. 

Derek shrugged and pressed a kiss to Stiles’s forehead. “It’s really not that bad,” Derek said. 

“Oh is that why you’re between me and the fireplace?” Stiles asked lightly. Derek glanced at where they were, and sure enough, he’d shifted them so his own body was between Stiles and the fireplace. “No, don’t move! It’s sweet,” Stiles said, tightening his hand in Derek’s shirt. Derek moved a bit to bury his face in Stiles’s neck. He breathed deep to take in Stiles’s scent, spicier than usual with the added scent of gingerbread over. Without thinking, Derek licked gently on the juncture of Stiles’s neck and shoulder. Stiles jerked a little, but when Derek moved to pull back and apologize, Stiles tugged him down into a searing kiss. The sudden shift in mood had Derek’s head reeling, or maybe that was just Stiles’s lips on his. 

Stiles groaned when Derek parted his lips, and when their tongues touched it took more control than Derek expected to keep his teeth from sharpening. As it was, he knew his eyes flashed red, but it didn’t much matter since Derek had closed his eyes the moment Stiles had kissed him. Stiles’s hands never stopped moving, the raked through Derek’s hair and down his back, sending goosebumps down his skin, while Derek kept one hand firm at the small of Stiles’s back, and the other cupping the younger man’s face. 

After a time, Derek managed to forget about the fire roaring behind him, and instead his world dissolved to contain nothing but Stiles, and the feeling of their bodies pressed together. Their kisses changed, no longer desperate, instead they moved slow and sweet, warming every inch of Derek until he thought he’d never be cold again. 

Finally Stiles pulled back. “If we keep this up, we’re gonna miss pack movie night,” he warned. Derek rolled his eyes. 

“I think this once, we can afford to be a little late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My biggest Derek Hale headcanon (after the fact that he totally owns at least five stuffed animals, all of them wolf-related and gifts from Stiles) is that he is afraid of fire. Not extremely, mind you. Just enough that fire, especially having someone he cares about near it, makes him nervous.


	12. Watching a Classic Holiday Film

They ended up being half an hour late for the holiday movie party. It would’ve been more if Derek had had his way, but Stiles had insisted that if he missed out on creepy-ass claymation elves, he was never forgiving Derek. Derek had said he could live with that, but then Stiles said he wouldn’t share his gingerbread cookies, and maybe it was an empty threat, but Derek couldn’t run that risk. He’d helped with the cookies too, damn it. 

By the time they arrived at the Hale house, everyone had already gotten snacks and started up _Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer_. Stiles looked delighted at the movie choice, and happily kicked Scott, Isaac, and Boyd off the couch so he could sprawl out. Derek lifted Stiles’s torso up enough that he could sit down, then let Stiles recline against Derek’s chest. Stiles happily snuggled in, and while Derek _tried_ to pay attention to the movie, he really did, but Stiles was warm and happy in his arms, and honestly the movie was _awful_. 

Seriously. There was an entire musical number dedicated to how “Grandpa’s gonna sue the pants off of Santa”. Stiles and Scott knew every word, and Derek wasn’t surprised in the least. 

So while the rest of the pack watched as Isaac and Lydia argued _Die Hard_ versus _Love Actually_ for the next movie, Derek stayed quiet, carding his fingers through Stiles’s hair. It was nice, having the whole pack around him bickering action movies or romance, having Stiles settled against him and exuding contentment and affection. Derek hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. It was so relaxing… 

*

“Derek, babe, wake up,” Stiles’s voice interrupted Derek’s dozing. 

“Wazzunit asleep!” Derek protested, sitting up with Stiles still in his lap. 

Stiles laughed. “Dude, you slept through _Die Hard_ , _Love Acutally_ , and that shitty Grumpy Cat special. You were _out_ ,” Stiles said, kissing Derek gently. 

“Trust me, you didn’t miss much,” Boyd said from his seat on the floor. 

“Did you get to _Rudolph_ yet?” Derek asked. 

“Why do you think Stiles woke you up?” Erica replied. “He said we weren’t allowed to start it until you were awake.” 

Derek turned to Stiles with a smile. Stiles blushed, and Derek leaned over to kiss him. 

“Would the two of you quit it?” Isaac groaned. “God, it’s like Scott’s Allison-gaze times _two_!”

Scott turned to Allison with a wounded look. “Do you not look at me like that?” he asked.

“Of course I do sweetie, you’re just more obvious about it,” Allison said soothingly, patting his arm. Scott beamed. 

Derek hoped they weren’t quite _that_ bad. Stiles just laughed, and waved at Lydia to put in the _Rudolph_ DVD before he had Derek lay down on the couch with Stiles reclining on top of him, their legs twined together and Stiles’s head on Derek’s shoulder. 

The movie started up, and Derek got sucked in, caught up in his favorite Christmas movie. He could feel Stiles watching him with glee, but he didn’t care. This movie was all tied up with one of his favorite memories of his family, and having the pack with him while he watched it made it all the better. The people he loved best in the world were all crowded into his living room to watch Christmas movies, and he couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just picture little Derek Hale wearing reindeer antlers.  
> You're welcome.


	13. Listening to/Playing Festive Music

The whole pack was dozing in the living room when Derek got up the next morning. Stiles had fallen asleep on Derek’s chest shortly after _Rudolph_ had ended and Derek had opted to sleep on the sofa rather than risk waking Stiles and incurring the ire of the pack by taking him upstairs to sleep in Derek’s bed. At some point in the night though they had both shifted until Stiles was tucked between the back of the couch and Derek’s body, so Derek was able to get up without waking Stiles. 

He headed upstairs and took a quick shower. While he was hunting for new clothes in his closet, his fingers brushed leather. He pushed aside a few pieces of clothing and found his old guitar case leaning against the back of the closet. Derek hesitated, but went ahead and pulled the case out. He tugged on some sweatpants, and sat crosslegged on his bed. 

Once he was situated on the bed, Derek popped open the guitar case and pulled out his old Gibson. Laura had given it to him for his birthday a year after the fire. It was an amber-honey color, one that reminded him of Stiles’s eyes now that he thought about it. He gave it a light strum, and winced. God, it was out of tune. After a little bit of fiddling, he managed to get it somewhere that sounded alright. 

He started playing, just scales, and tried to ignore how difficult it was to finger the frets without callouses. It’d always been a pain to play, rapid healing meant callouses weren’t ever going to happen, but Derek loved it. 

Downstairs he could hear the pack starting to wake up and raid his kitchen for breakfast. Lydia was insisting that Boyd make French toast, since he made it the best. Derek smirked, and switched from the basic scales he’d been playing to Christmas carols. He heard Stiles groan as he woke up, and smiled when Stiles almost instantly muttered Derek’s name in confusion. 

_“Where’s Derek?”_ Stiles asked.

_“Upstairs, I think,”_ Scott answered.

A few seconds later, Derek heard Stiles coming up the stairs. When Stiles stepped in, Derke almost set the guitar aside, but decided to finish out his slow rendition of _God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen_ instead. 

“Derek, is that a guitar?” Stiles asked. Derek didn’t answer, and bent his head over the instrument like he was focusing on his playing. Really, he just didn’t want Stiles to see him blush. The bed dipped next to him, and Derek glanced over to see Stiles kneeling next to him on the bed. “Since when do you play?” 

“Since I was fourteen, but the first one…” Derek trailed off and shrugged. 

Stiles just nodded. “This one’s nice. Play something else for me?” he asked. Derek smiled and started up an extremely basic _Carol of the Bells_ , much to Stiles’s delight. 

“Your favorite, right?” Derek asked, barely managing to pick out the tune. Stiles didn’t seem to care how poorly it was played, he grinned through the entire performance and leaned over to kiss Derek softly once the song was done.

When the kiss ended, Stiles of course had a question. “How’d you know it’s my favorite?”

Derek laughed. “You’ve been humming it for over a month. I’d have to be deaf not to know,” he said, moving the guitar out of his lap and shifting Stiles into it. “Good morning.”

Stiles leaned down and kissed him. “Good morning,” he answered. “Boyd’s making French toast.” 

“Mmm,” Derek hummed, leaning his head back to make it easier for Stiles to kiss him. Stiles took the cue, pressing light kisses across Derek’s face until Derek tugged him closer and kissed him soundly. 

Erica’s voice floated up the stairs, audible to them both. _“If you two want breakfast, get your asses down here!”_ she shouted. 

 

Stiles slid out of his lap and tugged on his hands. “C’mon, if you make me miss out on Boyd’s French toast, I’m definitely going to kill you.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” Derek chuckled, and Stiles dragged him down the stairs to where the pack was waiting. 

When they got downstairs, Boyd had already set out their breakfast. Scott looked up from his plate and groaned. “Oh c’mon, Derek, you couldn’t have put on a shirt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has become just a way to stash all my Derek-Hale-is-a-softy hcs. (I have this one where he's an indie artist it's lovely)


	14. Ice Skating

When breakfast was done, the pack went their separate ways. Lydia, Allison, Erica and Boyd all went to the mall for Christmas present shopping. Isaac and Scott had plans for a video game marathon, and invited Stiles. Derek stepped in though. 

“Actually, I have something I wanted to show you, if you’ve got time?” he offered. He didn’t want to get in the way of what Stiles wanted to do, but he’d wanted to show Stiles something for a few days now, and finally it’d been cold enough long enough that it’d be safe. 

“Always got time for you,” Stiles said, grinning. Scott mimed gagging behind him, but clapped them both on the shoulder as he and Isaac left the house. 

Derek helped Stiles track down his winter coat and boots, grabbed his own backpack, and tugged the human outside. “Follow me,” Derek said, leading Stiles down a path through the Preserve. 

“Like there’s another choice?” Stiles joked, hanging tight to Derek’s hand. Derek shook his head indulgently, and listened while Stiles started discussing potential Christmas presents for the rest of the pack. He offered a few suggestions for Boyd, he was practically impossible to shop for, and by the time Stiles had decided on a present for each pack member, they’d arrived. “Derek!” Stiles exclaimed. “It’s beautiful!”

In front of them in the forest was a small pond, just big enough to be good for ice skating, frozen solid with no snow covering it, because Derek had slipped out early that morning to sweep it off for this exact purpose. “Look in the backpack,” Derek said, passing the bag over to Stiles. 

Stiles opened it up, and stared up at Derek in surprise. “For real?” he said. Derek nodded. “Oh man, nobody _ever_ wants to ice skate with me!”

“That’s because you’re a menace on just two feet, the last thing most of them need is to add blades to them,” Derek said, taking the set of skates Stiles passed to him. “But I heal fast, I’m not worried.” Stiles rolled his eyes, but Derek knew he was excited because within seconds his skates were on and he was wobbling out onto the pond. 

“Derek, c’mon!” Stiles called, trying for figure eights but ultimately falling flat on his ass. Derek laughed, and slid out onto the pond to help Stiles up. “Not a word,” Stiles warned as Derek helped him up. 

Derek didn’t say a thing, but leveled a sarcastic look at Stiles until he laughed. “All right, all right, put the eyebrows away, Jesus,” Stiles said, shoving at Derek’s face. Derek growled playfully, and tightened his arms around Stiles, pulling him close so he could nip at his jaw. Stiles laughed breathlessly. “I thought we were gonna ice skate?”

“If you want,” Derek said magnanimously. Stiles pulled away, pressing a kiss to Derek’s cheek as he went. 

“Then let’s skate!” Stiles said, grinning. Derek chuckled, and helped Stiles get around on the ice. Watching Stiles walk was entertaining enough, but watching him on ice? Derek could sell tickets and make a fortune. He’d just much rather keep it to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally a quarter to midnight and I'm one chapter behind the days. I might just knock out 15 and 16 tonight!


	15. Having a Snowball Fight

After ice skating, Derek and Stiles had opted to stick around the Hale house the rest of the day. After lunch, Lydia, Allison, Erica, and Boyd all came back from their shopping. Erica and Boyd went upstairs to their room to hide the presents they’d bought, while Lydia and Allison regaled Stiles with stories from the mall. Apparently the Santa there had eyebrows alarmingly similar to Derek’s, and also shopping this time of year was a nightmare. 

By the time Scott and Isaac blew in, both grumpy from getting their asses kicked by each other all morning, everyone was looking to blow off some steam. Derek was about three seconds away from killing Scott. Stiles must have been able to sense it, because just before Derek snapped and murdered his Alpha, Stiles spoke up. “Let’s go outside guys! I want a rematch, even numbers this time.”

“Where are you going to get your fourth?” Scott asked.

“Derek, duh,” Stiles answered. When Scott turned to Derek, looking outraged, he just shrugged. “Ha, see! He’s totally on my side.” 

“I’m not taking sides, Stiles,” Derek said. 

“Yes you are, it’s only fair! C’mon, four werewolves against three humans? The least you can do is loan us some firepower, c’mon,” Stiles pleaded. Derek sighed, but finally nodded. 

“Fine, fine, let’s go,” Derek grumbled. “Get your gloves, Stiles, you forgot them yesterday and nearly lost a finger.” 

Stiles stuck his tongue out, but grabbed his gloves before he forced the entire pack outside into the snow. “Boyd, Erica, Scott, Isaac, other side of the clearing, go!” Stiles instructed. “And no werewolf listening!” he called after them. Scott just waved his hand in acknowledgment. 

Allison laughed. “You know they’re going to listen anyway,” she said. “May as well just go for it.”

“Don’t talk like that, Ally!” Stiles said, swatting her lightly on the shoulder. “We’re gonna kick their furry asses. Present company excluded, of course.” He glanced at Derek. 

“Aim for Isaac, he’s the reason you lost last time,” Derek said quietly. 

Stiles beamed, and they went to war. 

By the time the fight was over, everyone was drenched in melted snow and happily out of breath. With Derek’s advice and eventual help, Team Human had managed to just barely defeat Team Werewolf. 

“But it’s not really werewolf versus human if Derek’s fighting with you guys,” Scott insisted.

“Dude, give it up,” Isaac said. “It’s cold out here and I want cocoa.” 

Everyone looked at Derek expectantly. “Get inside, I’ll start on the cocoa,” he said, waving the pack inside. Isaac cheered, and the rest of the pack smiled. Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s hand as they walked inside. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. Derek nodded, and pressed a kiss to Stiles’s cheek. 

“Come help me with the cocoa,” Derek said, and tugged Stiles with him into the kitchen, much to the joy of the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently I'm as bad at writing snowball fights as i am at writing /real/ fights i tried guys


	16. Catching a Cold from Being Outside So Much

Not ten minutes after the pack finished their cocoa, the sneezing started. At first it was a small sniffle, but about a half hour after they came inside, Stiles was sneezing every other word. 

“Erica, go make him some tea?” Derek asked. Erica nodded and wandered off to the kitchen. Derek could vaguely smell the chamomile as she opened the tea leaves and set the water on to boil. 

“I’b fibe!” Stiles said, his nose already clogging up. 

Derek nodded. “Of course you are. If by fine you mean sick,” Derek answered, forcibly wrapping a blanket around Stiles’s shoulders. “And don’t even think about moving from that couch.” 

“I habe you,” Stiles sniffled. Derek patted his leg.

“Of course you do,” Derek agreed. “Now shut up and let Erica give you tea.” Erica appeared, perfectly on cue, with a steaming mug of tea and a plate of crackers. Stiles accepted the tea grumpily, but nibbled happily on the crackers until he started coughing. 

“Dude, this is what you get for being outside so much,” Scott chastised, patting his friend on the head. 

“Shub up, thab’s not eben how ib works,” Stiles complained. “Der, tell him.”

“He’s right, the only sick you can get from being outside is hypothermia, and he’s nowhere near it,” Derek said. 

Lydia made an affirmative sound. “True. The whole getting sick from being outside thing is an old wives’ tale,” she said, staring down at her fingernails critically. 

“Our entire lives are old wives’ tales!” Scott protested. Allison laughed, but smothered it when Scott looked over at her, wounded. 

She patted him gently on his shoulder. “Honey, let’s go to the mall and find something for your mom,” she suggested. 

“I’m coming with!” Lydia chimed in. “I need a manicure, werewolves are not conducive to healthy nail beds.” 

“Same!” Erica said. “Just because they turn into claws doesn’t mean they can’t look nice for now,” she added when Boyd shot her a confused glance. 

The boys looked to Derek for an explanation. “Laura did it all the time. I still don’t get it,” Derek said with a shrug. “Either way, I’m staying with Stiles.” 

“You don’d wand to geb your nails done?” Stiles said archly. Derek growled, but Stiles just laughed. The laughter quickly turned to coughing. 

“Drink your damn tea,” Derek said. “You sound awful.”

“You _look_ abful,” Stiles replied, and every werewolf in the room heard the skip in his heartbeat at the lie. 

“I think that’s our cue. Guys?” Isaac invited, moving to the door. The rest of the pack practically sprinted out of the house, some of them making excuses but most of them making a break for it. 

Stiles looked delighted. “I think be grossed out de puppies,” he said, sipping his tea. 

“We could probably do better,” Derek said, climbing onto the couch to lay alongside Stiles. “Good God, you’re burning up!” Derek exclaimed. Stiles was significantly warmer than he normally was. 

“Jus’ a feber, I’b fibe,” Stiles said, waving his hand absently. 

Derek shook his head. “I’m getting you some tylenol and then you’re going to get some sleep,” he said firmly. 

“Where ab I gonna sleep?” Stiles asked. 

“My room, of course,” Derek replied as he stood up. Stiles struggled to his feet, and no sooner was he upright then he started to tilt backward. “Okay, I’m carrying you.”

It was a testament to how sick Stiles was that he didn’t even protest when Derek scooped him up in a bridal carry and took him upstairs. Once he was settled in Derek’s bed, Derek stepped into the ensuite for the medicine. 

He came back out with not just tylenol, but some cough syrup and sudafed too. Stiles tried to take it dry, but Derek ran downstairs and was back with a large glass of orange juice before Stiles had even finished fighting the child safety lid. 

“Der,” Stiles said, popping the pills and drinking some juice. “Why do you hab medicine in your badroom? You don’b geb sick.” 

Derek blushed. “I stocked up on it. In case you needed it,” he explained. 

“Bud why here, and nod - _achoo!_ ” Stiles paused to sneeze. 

“And not the main bathroom?” Derek finished. “Because… I don’t know, I like having you in here, I guess.” Stiles’s cheeks turned bright pink, and Derek didn’t think it was from the fever. Derek leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Get some rest, we can talk when you’re feeling better.”

Stiles nodded sleepily. “‘K,” he said, and wriggled down into the blankets. Derek smiled and moved towards the door. “Don’b go!” Stiles called. Derek hesitated. “Can you jus’ sit with be a bid?” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Derek agreed, and came back to the bed. Already it smelled more like Stiles than usual, and Derek quietly enjoyed it. He settled underneath the covers, and slid an arm around Stiles to tug him against his chest. “Now sleep.” Stiles muttered something unintelligible and snuggled into Derek’s chest. Soon he was sound asleep, and Derek was fully content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has always bugged me bc being outside when it's cold doesn't make you sick
> 
> plus it let me make some "old wives' tale" jokes which I've had in my head for a while


	17. Spending Time with Friends and Family

It took a few days for Stiles to feel better, and in that time he hadn’t gone back to his own apartment once. Derek spent most of the time working on his next novel, alternately doing research in the library or just writing in the bedroom while Stiles slept. Now and then, he’d set the computer aside and just listen to whatever story Stiles was telling in his sleep. Of course the man wouldn’t be any quieter in sleep than he was awake. Usually it was gibberish, but at one point Stiles had narrated an entire retelling of _Little Red Riding Hood_ , complete with a wolf-friendly ending message. Derek had laughed so hard he’d woken Stiles up, but Stiles hadn’t seemed to mind. 

At any rate, Stiles was soon cold-free, much to everyone’s delight, and the moment Derek mentioned in a text that Stiles was feeling better, the pack was there. Stiles and Derek were having breakfast together when Scott came careening into the kitchen.

“Stiles! Bro, I need your help,” Scott said. “Mom wants me and Allison over for dinner tonight.”

“Huh, that sounds awful. How dare she feed you and your paramore!” Stiles pronounced.

Scott groaned. “No, dude! It’s the first time she and Allison have eaten together since _high school_. Blood may be shed. I need a buffer,” Scott begged. 

“Bro, you and I made a deal long ago that I would only date your mom if your dad came back in town and we needed to ruin his self-esteem,” Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of Count Chocoula. 

“This isn’t a date, I just need someone to take the heat off of Allison. Hell, bring Derek, let Mom go all concerned-parent on him, just don’t make me do this by myself,” Scott said. 

Derek watched the conversation with interest. Dinner with Melissa didn’t sound half-bad, she was an amazing cook, and it’d probably be worth an awkwardness that might come up. When Stiles looked at him to see if he actually wanted to go, Derek nodded. He stood up and crossed behind Stiles to put his breakfast dishes in the sink, and when he came back he paused just behind Stiles to kiss his cheek.

Stiles clapped his hands together. “All right Scotty, just this once, _this once_ mind you, we will swoop in at the eleventh hour and save your wolfy ass.”

“What do you mean ‘once’, we do that every week,” Derek mumbled. Stiles swatted his arm for the snark, and Derek retreated, hands up as he sat down. 

“Remember, Derek, we save you just as often,” Scott said primly, looking very proud of himself. Derek just rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t believe I’m having dinner with you.”

*  
Dinner started off as a quiet affair, but by the time everyone’s plates had been filled, Melissa’s eyes had gained a calculating look. “So, Derek, tell me more about the arrest record,” she said, voice shrewd.

Derek glanced to Stiles in a panic, but Stiles just shrugged and made a face that said _go with it_. 

“Uh… Stiles and Scott got me arrested? For murder?” And _damn_ why did everything come out sounding like a question. “But I was cleared of all suspicion.”

“Mmm,” Melissa said. “Scott, pass the pot roast? And Derek, exactly how much older than Stiles are you?”

Scott scrambled to obey, passing the food to his mother. Allison smiled demurely over her glass of water, and Derek tried not to hate her for not receiving the third degree. 

It occurred to Derek around the eighth or ninth personal question that Melissa was giving him the concerned-parent talk, just like Scott had joked. Over his dinner with the Sheriff, John had just mentioned calmly that he knew every way possible to both kill Derek and dispose of his body without it being found, and that had been that. Honestly, that’d been about what Derek was expecting. 

Melissa, on the other hand, was _ruthless_. She didn’t tiptoe around sensitive subjects like his uncle, or phrase things politely. Instead, she barrelled through, and Derek did his best to answer honestly. 

Finally, Stiles’s heart rate picked up enough that Derek paused in his explanation of what exactly he’d been doing in New York after leaving Beacon Hills and turned to see what was wrong. “Yo, Melissa, you know you’re the light of my life, but can we maybe let Derek eat a bit before grilling him more? I don’t think he’s eaten anything but soup for the past four days.”

“Why not?” Melissa asked, raising an eyebrow archly.

“He’s been taking care of me while I was sick. Who knew Derek Hale had secret caregiver qualities?” Stiles joked. 

Melissa turned to Derek and smiled, her eyes softening when she looked at him. 

They ended up staying for dessert, and egg nog too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't as Christmassy as usual, but I just really wanted Melissa to grill Derek.


	18. One Lending the Other a Coat/Hat/Scarf to Keep Warm

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked, knocking on Derek’s bedroom door. 

Derek perked up. His editing wasn’t going as well as he wanted it to; he couldn’t focus. “Yeah, Stiles, what’s up?” 

Stiles shuffled around a bit. He actually looked _nervous_ about what he was about to say. Derek forcibly kept his mind from jumping to the worst case scenario, but it was a close thing. “I’m going to visit my mom today, and, well, I was wondering if you’d want to come with? This sounds dumb but I kinda want her to meet you?” Stiles looked down at his feet, the room suddenly stinking of his embarrassment. Derek stood up and crossed the room, wrapping an arm around Stiles’s waist. 

“I’d love to meet her,” Derek finally said. Stiles’s entire body relaxed. He must’ve been working himself up over asking, because now he seemed completely calm. “C’mon, we’re taking my car. I don’t trust yours in the snow.” 

“Roscoe is a perfectly fine machine, thank you,” Stiles said imperiously, but he let Derek lead him to the Camaro, so he couldn’t have been too insulted. The Camaro took a second to start up in the cold, much to Stiles’s amusement, but moments later the engine rumbled to life and carried them easily down the roads to the cemetery. 

Derek parked carefully, trying to force back memories of the only other time he’d been to this cemetery. It’d been in the same car, but he hadn’t been driving. Instead, Laura had driven, stony-faced and dry-eyed, and Derek had sobbed in the passenger seat the entire way. 

He shook his head, cleared the memories away, and let his attention shift to the present. An unusually quiet Stiles led him through the tombstones. Stiles clearly traveled this way a lot, he moved easily between the graves until they reached the correct one. 

They stood there together, silent, for a few minutes, Stiles staring at the tombstone and Derek carefully watching Stiles’s face. Stiles finally turned to Derek. “So… this is my mom. Mom, this is Derek,” Stiles said, scuffing his feet awkwardly in the snow. 

Derek nodded slowly. Stiles was clearly feeling embarrassed, and Derek could smell a tinge of regret on his scent. He couldn’t let Stiles keep feeling like that, so he did the only thing he could think of. 

“Mrs. Stilinski, nice to meet you,” he said softly, turning to face the headstone. Stiles jolted like Derek’s words had shocked him, but when Derek glanced over, Stiles smiled just a little bit. 

They stood there together for almost an hour, talking to Mrs. Stilinski and each other. Finally, the cold got the better of Stiles and he started to shiver. Without missing a beat, Derek slipped off his coat and wrapped it around Stiles’s shoulders. 

“Derek, you’re going to freeze!” Stiles protested, but he was already tugging the coat shut and curving into the added warmth. 

“I sincerely doubt that,” Derek replied. 

“Just because you’re a werewolf doesn’t mean you can’t freeze,” Stiles said firmly. “C’mon, it’s getting cold. Mom, I’ll be back next week okay?” Stiles added, turning towards the grave. “I’ll see if Dad can come too. Love you.” The last two words were said so softly that if Derek hadn’t been a werewolf he probably wouldn’t have caught them. 

Instead of commenting, Derek just reached out for Stiles’s hand. Stiles grabbed on tight, and they walked back to the car together. 

Once they were in the car with the heat blasting, Stiles spoke. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “And… for talking to her. I know she can’t hear me or anything, but…”

“You don’t know that for sure. And if it helps, you deal… I don’t visit their graves, but I still talk to my mom and Laura,” Derek admitted. “Especially about you. They would’ve loved you.”

Stiles face split into a smile. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. Laura would’ve been head over heels for you. She’d have given you hell for a bit, but once she’d been around you for a bit… actually you’d get along a little _too_ well,” Derek said, musing on Laura’s penchant for sarcasm and pranks. Together she and Stiles would’ve been _terrifying_. Derek was surprised to find that for once, thinking of his sister didn’t bring up a well of guilt. There was grief, certainly, and some regret, but he was able to push through it to consider what things would’ve been like if his family could’ve met the human beside him. 

“They wouldn’t have minded though?” Stiles asked when they pulled up to the house. “That I’m… you know…”

“A guy?” Derek filled in.

“No, a human,” Stiles corrected, and Derek burst out laughing. “Hey, I’m serious!” Stiles said, smacking Derek lightly on the head. “Just for that, I’m keeping your jacket.” 

Derek tried to stop his laughter, and managed to get it down to the occasional chuckle. “Go ahead, it looks better on you. But, Stiles,” he laughed again, “my dad was human. So was my brother. They wouldn’t have cared if you were human or not. Humans make a pack better.” 

Stiles pursed his lips in confusion. “But how? We’re not as strong, not as fast. Wouldn’t we just be weaknesses?”

“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “In a battle, sometimes they can be a liability, but they help anchor the pack, keep us part of the human world instead of falling entirely to the wolf side of ourselves.” Derek paused. “And you’ve never been a weakness.” 

Suddenly the car smelled of embarrassment and no small amount of pride. Derek looked over and sure enough, Stiles was blushing. Derek smiled, and squeezed Stiles’s hand. 

“Let’s go inside,” Stiles finally said. “The pack’s still coming over tonight right?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, and Melissa and your dad. Maybe even Chris, he hadn’t decided last I heard.”

“Then I’ve got work to do, let’s go,” Stiles said. He let go of Derek hand and scrambled out of the car. “C’mon, sourwolf, things to do!” he called as he headed up the walk to the house. Derek just smiled, glad to have Stiles back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know I did the whole 'visiting mom at the graveyard' thing last year too with Arthur... why do all my fave characters have dead parents and why do I make them visit so often?
> 
> EDIT" sorry about the first posting, there was an error in my html that deleted a huge part of the chapter, but it is all fixed now.


	19. Throwing/Attending a Holiday Party

By the time the pack started to show up, Stiles had set out enough food for five werewolves -and six humans- and had somehow managed to make the entire house smell like gingerbread. 

“Derek, it’s a Scentsy, not magic, quit looking so confused,” Stiles said. Derek felt his ears turn red at being caught staring at the weird wax warmer thing for the fifth time. 

“‘S weird,” Derek grumbled. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Here,” he said, pushing a platter of meats and cheeses into Derek’s hands. “Go feed the pups. Hop to.” Derek wanted to protest, but Stiles had a glint in his eye that kept Derek quiet. 

Derek stepped into the living room, where Stiles had turned on all of the Christmas lights imaginable and hung up even more tinsel and greenery than Derek had thought possible. The whole room was packed with humans and werewolves alike. 

“Hey, Derek’s got food!” Scott shouted when he caught sight of Derek. 

Immediately the pack descended, snatching food from the platter to put on their own plates. Derek made sure they didn’t take more than their fair share, and then passed the platter on to Lydia, who served it to the humans. The Sheriff kept trying to sneak some of the less heart-healthy snacks, but Stiles seemed to have some supernatural sense for when his dad would try, because without fail he’d show up and swat his dad’s hand. 

“Derek! Watch him, I’m going to go grab a beer,” Stiles said, pointing to his dad aggressively. The Sheriff just grinned and held his hands up to show there was nothing in them. Not ten seconds after Stiles left, the Sheriff went for the bacon-wrapped weenies. 

Derek quickly snagged the plate. “Stiles will actually murder me,” Derek explained when the Sheriff looked at him with betrayal. 

“And that’s why I like you,” Stiles said, coming up behind him and kissing him on the cheek. Derek smiled and turned to kiss Stiles in return. The Sheriff smiled indulgently at them both, and Derek froze, realizing that he’d just kissed Stiles in front of his father. Stiles, however, remained relaxed, which in turn calmed Derek down. Sheriff Stilinski just laughed at them both and left to go talk to Melissa. 

Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Scott and Allison were talking with Chris over some wine Allison had brought, Boyd and Erica were arm wrestling in the corner while Isaac and Lydia watched, and Melissa and the Sheriff were leaning against a wall, watching everyone. As the party wore on, Stiles relaxed, and let Derek keep hold of him for awhile instead of constantly running back and forth between the kitchen and the party. The real adults left about ten, but the party kept going with the pack for a long while after. 

“You did good,” Derek said, leaning in and kissing Stiles’s temple. Stiles preened and tilted his head to kiss Derek soundly.

When the kiss ended, Stiles smiled. “Yeah, we did alright,” he said easily. “We should do this more often.”

Derek chuckled. “What do you mean, the pack’s here all the time. It’s getting them to _leave_ that’s the trick,” he said, dodging the cracker Erica threw in retaliation. It bounced off of Scott instead, who yelped in surprise. Stiles started to laugh when Scott turned around with an offended look on his face, and Derek thought he’d never heard a nicer sound than that. He couldn’t help but lean down and taste the sound where it escaped, kissing Stiles gently until Scott threw a second cracker to get his attention. 

“I _said_ you guys are the worst,” Scott repeated. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Erica replied. Derek nodded his approval. “It’s like when your parents kiss. It’s weird, but it just means the _luuuurve_ each other,” she finished, an impish grin on her face. 

“I regret keeping you,” Derek said, and Erica just laughed at the lie. 

“No, Erica’s right, Stiles and Derek are definitely our parents,” Isaac chimed in. 

“Watch it, or we’ll ground you,” Derek warned. 

“They’re grown adults, Der, we can’t actually ground them,” Stiles laughed. 

The whole pack started to laugh. “So Stiles is the mom,” Lydia mused aloud, sparking more laughter. 

Derek just shook his head. “They’re your kids, deal with them,” he said to Stiles, who barked out a surprised laugh. 

“Babe, what’s mine is yours, and you’re responsible for _at least_ three of the werewolves,” Stiles corrected. “I might even make Scott your responsibility.”

“Now that’s just unfair!” Derek protested. Scott made an equally unhappy sound but Allison swatted his arm to make him stop. 

“Shut up and enjoy the party, all of you,” Stiles said, shoving at Derek’s shoulder until he moved the way Stiles wanted. “I’ve gotta borrow Derek for a bit.”

“Mom and Dad are going to make out!” Erica crowed, and the resultant laughter followed them out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Derek and any kind of air freshners have a long-standing enmity.


	20. One Surprising the Other with an Early Christmas Gift

Derek let Stiles tug him out of the house, past the luminaries and to the Jeep. “C’mon,” Stiles said, “Hurry up. I’ve got a surprise for you.” Derek rolled his eyes. 

“You realize Christmas is five days away, right?” Derek said. Stiles shrugged, tugging on Derek’s hand. 

“And? I wanna give you an early present, deal with it,” Stiles said firmly. Derek smiled, and stood to the side while Stiles rummaged around in his backseat. After a few seconds, Stiles crowed in success. “Got it!” he announced, pulling a wrapped package from his backseat. “C’mon, let’s go inside before you open it.”

They half-ran back inside, Derek being pulled along by Stiles hand. The pack took one look at the pair of them, and started to clear out. 

“Great party, Derek,” Allison called over her shoulder as Scott hustled her out the door. The other betas just laughed, and Boyd snatched Derek’s keys on the way out. Derek moved to stop him -like hell was Boyd borrowing the car for whatever he, Erica, and Isaac were going to get up to- but Stiles put a hand on his arm. 

“Let him use the car, they’ll be fine,” Stiles said. 

“Thanks, Mom,” Boyd called back. Stiles turned to the door and stuck his tongue out just as it closed. 

“Go on, open it. Open it, open it, open it,” Stiles repeated, pushing Derek onto the couch and the box into Derek’s hand. Derek took it, but he was almost reluctant to ruin the wrapping paper. “Oh just open it!” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, I’m opening it, see?” he said, making a show of popping out a claw to slit the paper open. He let the paper fall to the side, and popped the box open. “Stiles,” Derek said. “Is this…?” In the box sat a small framed photo, taken a few months earlier at Stiles’s graduation party. The entire pack was there, even Jackson and Cora had flown in to be part of it. Stiles was being drenched by a Super Soaker wielded by Scott, while Isaac and Boyd threw water balloons at each other in the background. The rest of the pack was hiding behind paper plates, laughing as water splashed at them. If he looked close, Derek could make out the expression on his face as he’d watched Stiles get chased around the yard. Looking at it, he couldn’t imagine why he’d waited so long.

“A cheap frame? Well, partially, yes,” Stiles said, clearly a little uncomfortable with Derek’s silence. “It’s not your only gift,” Stiles rushed, “You’ve got a real one coming Christmas, I just thought you might like-”

Derek leaned over and kissed him, cutting off Stiles’s words and, hopefully, his train of thought. Stiles gasped, startled, but pushed into Derek’s arms. “It’s perfect,” Derek said. “Good luck toppping it,” he added, smirking. 

“Dude, it’s a framed photo, I certainly hope I can top it,” Stiles laughed. Derek just shook his head. 

“It’s not just that, and you know it,” Derek said, kissing Stiles on the cheek. Stiles smiled, small and tentative, and Derek couldn’t help smiling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little short, but im tired tonight :-)


	21. Spending the Evening in a Cafe

The next day over lunch, while Derek was single-mindedly focusing on the open-faced sandwiches Stiles had made everyone, the pack discussed evening plans. 

“Scott’s taking me out to dinner tonight,” Allison said to Lydia and Erica, cutting her sandwich neatly with the side of her fork. 

Erica hummed. “I’m making Boyd come with me for some last-minute Christmas shopping. His parents absolutely hate me, and I’ve got to get them something that says _I want to impress you_ but also _I don’t actually care and want you to know it_ ,” she replied. 

“Hard balance to strike,” Lydia agreed. “You could always get her a _really_ nice vibe, and impress her while insulting Mr. Boyd.” All three girls laughed, while Boyd and Isaac looked on with horror. 

“Girls are _terrifying_ ,” Isaac said. 

Stiles and Scott were deep into a debate about the merits of the new _Fast and Furious_ movie, so they managed to avoid the horror, but nothing would ever remove the mental image from Derek’s mind. He’d never be able to look Mrs. Boyd in the face again. Ever. 

“But where’s Scott taking you?” Lydia asked, smiling as the boys obviously relaxed. 

Allison beamed. “I don’t know. He’s planning the whole thing. It’ll be our first date in months, so he said he wanted to take care of things,” she said proudly. 

Erica sighed. “God, I don’t think Boyd and I have gone on a date in months. Between school, work, and full moons, we’ve just been too busy,” she said. 

“At least you’ve got someone,” Lydia inserted. Erica nodded, agreeing. “But honestly, the date options in Beacon Hills are incredibly limited. Unless you want to spend the whole evening in the library or a cafe.”

Derek glanced over to Stiles. Technically they hadn’t gone on a date yet. They’d spent time together, but Derek had yet to ask Stiles out. He was surprised by how much he wanted that, to do the whole dating thing. 

“Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles glanced up, pausing his conversation with Scott. Derek swallowed nervously. “Want to go out tonight?” 

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, sounds great,” he said. “You pick where.”

Derek nodded, trying to keep his pulse steady and breathing normal. Judging by the eyebrow Erica raised at him, he’d failed. He didn’t really care though. He had a date that night. 

*

He picked Stiles up from his apartment as the sun went down. Stiles had clearly dressed up, instead of his usual tee shirt and flannel he had on a dark button down and jeans that actually fit. 

“You- ah, you look good,” Derek said when Stiles got into the car, the smell of his body wash and shampoo strong in the air. 

Stiles turned and very obviously raked his eyes over Derek. “Thanks,” he finally said. “You too.” 

Derek flushed and started to drive to avoid having to respond. He pulled up outside one of the independent coffee shops Beacon Hills had instead of a Starbucks, and led Stiles inside. 

“One rule: no coffee,” Derek said as they joined the line at the counter. 

“But Derek-” Stiles began.

“But nothing. You know it doesn’t work well with your Adderall,” Derek warned. Stiles sighed, but seemed to accept it. He reached out and caught Derek’s hand, twined their fingers together so he could hold on.

They wound up both getting cocoa that they carried over to one of the plush sofas scattered around the sitting area. Stiles immediately tucked himself up under Derek’s arm, and settled in against his chest. Derek had his fingers crossed that Stiles couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating. 

“This is nice,” Stiles finally said. “Just… sitting with you.”

“You need to move around, don’t you?” Derek said. 

Stiles sighed. “Yeah, kinda, but I really like this,” Stiles said. “It’s sweet. We haven’t done this before.”

Derek smiled, and kissed Stiles’s forehead. “But we did it, and now we can go drive through that taco place you like, and you can squirm around all you want,” Derek offered. 

“You are officially my favorite,” Stiles proclaimed, leaning up for a kiss. Derek obliged, but cut it short because of where they were. He stood up and tugged Stiles to his feet. 

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Lead on, sourwolf,” Stiles replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda scattered, but I'm beat and I feel like Stiles wouldn't be one for a quiet night in a cafe anyway.


	22. Making S'mores

“It’s getting late,” Stiles finally said, once tacos had been consumed and they’d retreated to Derek’s house for coffee. Derek nodded, but slid an arm around Stiles’s shoulders anyway. Stiles curved into him, smiling happily. “What, you going to keep me here?”

“It’s too late to drive,” Derek pointed out. 

Stiles laughed. “Sure it is,” he agreed. “But if I’m gonna stay, I’m going to require some bribery.”

Derek thought for a minute. “I’ve got the supplies for s’mores in the kitchen,” he said. Stiles leapt up, leaving Derek cold. 

“Then why are we sitting around? C’mon, get me some marshmallowy goodness,” Stiles cried, heading to the kitchen. Derek followed more calmly, and by the time he got there, Stiles had gotten out the graham crackers and pulled down the marshmallows. 

“Find the chocolate, I dunno where it is,” Stiles ordered, flapping his free hand while the other stuck marshmallows onto two graham crackers. Derek slid up behind him and put an arm around his waist for balance while he reached into the highest cupboard and tugged down a pack of chocolate bars. 

“Had to hide them from the pack, Erica always steals them,” Derek explained. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because she can’t track it by smell?” he replied, opening the package and removing a chocolate bar. “Here, pop these in the microwave,” he instructed, breaking the chocolate bar in half and putting it under the marshmallows. 

Derek complied, but made sure to put the other graham crackers on top first. “We have a hard time smelling things when they’re sealed. She’ll probably find them now, but I just wanted to save some for you.” The microwave dinge and the s’mores were finished.

“Sweet,” Stiles said, pecking Derek on the cheek. “Now gimme the s’more, dearest.”

“Fine, fine,” Derek said. “You are so demanding,” he teased, pulling the s’mores just out of reach. Stiles scrambled for one, finally reaching out to tickle Derek until he relinquished the s’more. “You’re a nightmare,” Derek said. 

Stiles hummed. “Yeah, but at least I’m cute,” he said before scarfing down the s’more. Derek laughed, but let Stiles steal a part of his s’more. “Also, I may need to borrow a shirt.” Derek looked over, and somehow Stiles had gotten a huge glob of melted marshmallow on his own tee shirt. 

“C’mon, I think I’ve got some upstairs,” Derek said. He led Stiles upstair, only to find that once again, he was out of actual clothes. “Hang on, I must’ve left them in the laundry room.” 

He headed down to the end of the hall to the laundry room and snagged the first shirt he saw at the top of his basket. “Here, Stiles, I found a- damn,” he swore. Stiles had stripped off his soiled shirt, curled up on Derek’s bed, and fallen fast asleep. “No point in waking you now,” Derek muttered, pressing a kiss to Stiles’s forehead. He changed into his pajamas and settled himself and Stiles under the blankets. “Night, Stiles.”

Stiles just muttered in his sleep and rolled over, closer to Derek’s body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always have such a hard time with this prompt because I don't associate s'mores with the holidays at all.


End file.
